


Drown in My Mind

by TheSixthRedux (LostInTheCityofAngels)



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, Dark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Profiler - Freeform, Profiler Mulder, Profiling, Suicidal Thoughts, VCU, many references to suicide, something during season 4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:08:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29163189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostInTheCityofAngels/pseuds/TheSixthRedux
Summary: Sometime during Season 4: Mulder is called on to be the profiler for a VCU case except it's different this time. The killer is only killing suicidal people that he meets in online chatrooms. Mulder is called in to assist and help catch the perpetrator by going undercover online, pretending to be suicidal to lure the killer to him. Of course, Scully fears Mulder's methods will take him over his head this time.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	1. Another Day Here

**Author's Note:**

> You've been warned, this is a very dark story- and if you know me in real life, no you don't! If you're reading this story... are you okay?
> 
> Story title and chapter titles are lyrics from the song "Drown in My Mind" by Story Untold.

Another normal day in the office, or somewhat close to normal on Mulder's spectrum, and he was bored, shooting pencils into the ceiling and recalling random moments in his mind with Scully. She had finished faxing some reports and when she came back, the phone call made them both jump from the silence.

"Mulder," he replied picking it up. He listened to the other end before hanging up and getting up. "Mmmhmm. Be right there."

"Skinner?"

"Yeah." As Mulder walked up, he started to think about what he could've done wrong, because they never got called in for a positive reason, that's for sure.

They got up, and his secretary told them they could go right in, which they did. A big weight was relieved off his shoulders when he saw some files on the desk and a couple other agents.

"Agents Scully, Mulder, have a seat." Once situated they were introduced to the other agents.

"I'm Agent Cash and this is my partner Agent Dylan," the first man said, shaking their hands, the the other following. They both were about the same age as Mulder.

"Like the country singers," Mulder commented.

"Yeah."

"These agents are from the VCU."

Instantly, Scully's face grew concerned and Mulder knew what was going to happen. "We need you on the case." They pushed the folder to him without any words, and he opened the front page.

"This isn't an average run of the mill killer," Agent Dylan mentioned. "All we know is the killer is killing suicidal people."

"That's all you know?"

"Yeah."

"You've already talked to some families?"

"Yes."

"But you don't know how these people are being contacted or why the killer is doing this?"

"The killer uses a chatroom but it's impossible to trace what his location is or read the messages."

"So it's consensual homicide?"

"We dont know for certain, but possibly. He crosses state lines."

"How long have you been working VCU?"

"Five years."

"Then why can't you..."

Scully kicked him lightly under the table. Clearly they called Mulder because he was the best, and everyone was stuck and not able to profile.

"Well, as you know- you were the best profiler before you moved to the basement, and we think you'll help us catch the killer."

"Alright." Mulder closed the folder and started to head out. He should just get it over with so he could focus on something else.

The other agents just sat there, not knowing what else to do since he walked out.

"He can work on his own, but I think you might want to assist him if possible," Skinner said to Scully. She nodded knowing exactly what was being implied. She had to make sure he didn't get in over his head.

By the time Scully got downstairs, she noticed Mulder already spreading out the photographs of the victims, looking down at them in a grid pattern.

"Mulder, are you sure you can handle this?"

He hated anyone worrying about him. He would be fine. "I can, Scully."

He pointed to the victims. "They all died of a single bullet straight through the temple. No struggle, or anything. I don't know what case we have, but he's more or less a hitman that suicidal people hire to end their miseries. I'm assuming already its a male."

"Mulder, you can't just avoid the question."

"I didn't. I'm fine. I said I can handle this."

"But remember last time with-"

"With Patterson? I know. You thought I had gone mad. I didn't so please, just leave me alone." The end of his sentence sounded more aggressive than he liked but he needed to be left alone.

"I'm coming back at lunch," Scully said before leaving to wherever she was going.

He sat down behind his computer and opened the chatroom which was said to be used. The chatroom had about thirty people only. He sighed. This would be easy. If everyone here seems suicidal, there will be one "savior" that stands out that pretends to have empathy for them. This was a very complicated topic, and if Mulder needed to gain trust, he had to start now and pose as someone suicidal.

It wasn't going to totally shot in the dark because he's felt certain emotions before. He pushed them away, and didn't want to bring everything flooding back. The amount of times he's pointed his own gun at his head was concerning. It was probably less than ten, but the fact that he even did it once was awful. He was surprised the bureau never forced the mandatory counseling, in fact given his condition, he was surprised they didn't make him go to therapy every day, but he was thankful for not having to. He figured Scully was there to make sure he kept his mind straight.

Hopping onto the chatroom, he assigned himself an alias Paran01dSp00ky. Everyone had wild usernames, why couldn't he? He knew that his reputation of being spooky was only an inside bureau thing, and he could still stay anonymous.

Paran01dSp00ky has entered the chat. 4 members online.

Jeff10: Welcome.

DarkH0rse: Hello!

Di3Hard: What brings you here? Feeling suicidal? Join the club.

Mulder's fingers hesitated. Was this a suicide cult? He didn't say anything. As if reading his mine, Jeff replied.

Jeff10: Don't worry. We're not a cult or group. We just relate with each other. It's a friendly environment :)

Why is it that the people hurting the most honestly seem to be the kindest? Or maybe they didn't see themselves. that way. Certainly Mulder felt selfish. The only reason he didn't end his life was really only not wanting Scully to go through that. Every-time he was going to pull the trigger in the past, Scully saved him in miracle time.

Paran01dSp00ky: I guess I have no one to talk to.

DarkH0rse: We got ya! Tell us what's going on.

It's just a cover, he told himself. It's all lies. You're not going to write how you really feel.

Paran01dSp00ky: I've just been feeling hopeless. The feeling has been there since my youth.

Mulder cringed at his message but continued.

Paran01dSp00ky: When I was young, my sister went missing and no one could find her. She still hasn't been found. My parents divorced, I started to feel no motivation to live. It was so easy just to grab my father's gun and end it all.

Jeff10: But you didn't. You found a reason to keep going. What was that?

Paran01dSp00ky: So we're just a bunch of suicidal people telling each other not to?

Jeff10: Something like that. We're all just forty year old men, with nothing else to do than chat. I

Mulder didn't know what to say next. Did he sound convincing? He wondered if Jeff or this other person was the killer but it was really hard to tell. He'd have to slowly become friendly and earn trust, hoping the killer will ask to meet up. But again, what if the other people became victims first? He needed to up his game, make sure he sounded like he was ready to die, and if he wanted that mindset, he'd have to focus and put himself in the shoes of someone suicidal.

He chatted longer with the two in the chatroom, and he learned their stories, but none were nearly as traumatic as his experience. Ironic, seeing he's the one going undercover online. 

Mulder was so engrossed in this chatroom that he didn't hear Scully walk up and stand behind him with a burrito for lunch. He jumped and quickly shut the screen off.

"How long were you standing there?"

"I called your name ten times. Can I read the messages?"

"No," he quickly said taking the burrito. "Thanks for the food."

"Mulder- I'm thinking, there are other ways, to go about this."

"Then you give me a better idea. How would you catch this guy?" Silence. "Exactly."


	2. Another Mistake

If circumstances were different, Mulder would've kept everything and slowly revealed his thoughts, but time was important as he was racing to save a victim, or rather sacrifice himself first.

Skinner had called for a private meeting with Scully, and she quietly slipped out of the room, Mulder not noticing anyway.

"How is he?"

"Sir, he's- doing well so far, for the first day. Just spending the whole day on the chatroom."

"If you feel like he's going too far, let me know and I'll pull him off."

"Yes sir."

This is how it was the next two weeks. Mulder sat at the computer screen, just chatting away and barely eating. She wondered if he was sleeping too. It was odd for Mulder to be this quiet, and she feared his mind was doing something. Jeff had become his closest friend on the server, and Mulder was pretty sure this guy was the killer.

Jeff10: You know, it's honestly not that hard to end it with the right resources. It's harder to convince yourself to.

Paran01dSp00ky: Tell me about it. I have a gun with me and what's stopping me from pressing the barrel to my forehead and pulling the trigger? I don't know. It's probably because I'm always searching for the truth, always looking but I think I'm lonely. I am selfish, my partner hates me for my "darkness."

He was too into everything. By now, he had created a whole backstory. These people wouldn't stop asking about his life. Most of the chat was friendly with him now, but no single person had messaged him asking to end his misery.

He needed a different approach. Become more extreme. 

Jeff10: How do you cope with your suicidal thoughts?

Paran01dSp00ky: Probably how everyone else does.

Mulder didn't know what these people had to say.

Jeff10: Alcohol and cutting?

Paran01dSp00ky: Yeah.

Jeff10: Show me an image.

What was wrong with this dude? He had to be the killer, so of course, Mulder had to play along.

There was no time for makeup and effects, so Mulder took a ruler, and more or less made a small scratch, but not a cut, and rubbed it red. How sick was that?

Again, Mulder hated sending that but almost jumped out of his chair when they started sending pictures back. How could someone do that! He wanted to get their address right now and send some cops to help. 

Paran01dSp00ky: There-

Jeff10: I thought you were hurting more, dude. You're strong. That's barely a scratch.

Paran01dSp00ky: I guess I rely more on the booze.

Those whole couple weeks dragged on. Could Mulder just get done with the case already? Could he just ask to end everything? Whenever Scully came in to check on him, she finally stopped commenting about how he looked like shit and just asked for small updates where he would reply, he was very close.

He threw his keyboard out of frustration and covered his eyes. He didn't want to, but there was only one way to lure in the killer. He had to ask for the kill. Scully would probably kill him first for that anyway. As if it was the worst luck, the exact same time he threw his keyboard at the door, Scully walked with the two VCU agents, the three of them nearly getting beheaded by the keyboard.

Mulder looked up and sheepishly blushed, getting up. "Yes?"

Scully didn't bother asking if he was alright, as he bent down to pick up the keyboard and avoid her eye contact.

"He struck again."

"What?!"

He slammed the keyboard on the floor again, Scully clearly wanting to tell him to control his anger. "How could I fuck up like this?!"

"He struck in Charlottesville. We're visiting the site." Mulder felt a drop in his stomach. That's where Jeff said he lived, but that couldn't have been. He just talked to Jeff yesterday- although so much can happen. Go figure.

"Same M.O? You know it's him?"

"Yeah."

"You go without me," he replied.

"Are you sure?"

"Mmhmm."

"Take a break," Scully said before closing the door on the way out. 

Picking up the keyboard again, he plugged it in and realized he broke it so he threw it yet again, not caring. He had to go by a new keyboard because he couldn't type without one, and time was something valuable. He couldn't waste anytime so he went upstairs to ask for a new keyboard.

He didn't want to, but he noticed Agent Pendrall wasn't around, and quickly took his keyboard and headed back down to his dark basement.

He logged onto the chat and already he missed so many messages. He decided to start a call because typing was a hassle.

Right away, people joined the call.

"Who died?" Mulder asked.

"Dude, you missed a lot. Jeff did."

"What? How did you know?"

"You missed that chat raging last night. It would be too many to scroll through. His brother knew he had a chatroom and informed us. You okay,? You kinda sound sad."

Did he? Mulder thanked them for the information and logged off before calling Scully.

"Scully, it's me. I hope you didn't start driving."

"We just pulled out of the garage."

"Wait for me!" He shut off his phone and ran as fast he could to the car where Scully sat behind the wheel, Agents Cash and Dylan sitting in the backseat. Mulder got in shotgun.

"What's with the change of mind?"

"He was the closest to me in that chat..." Mulder trailed off. It wasn't his burden but it sure felt like it. He was so stupid pretending to be hurt himself, that it just flew over him that these people truly needed the help.

"I'm so sorry, Mulder," she said lightly patting his shoulder.

"It was supposed to be me," Mulder whispered quietly. All heads turned to him and he realized that didn't come out right. "I mean, I was supposed to be killed, or I was supposed to be contacted- I mean- oh fuck it."

Scully could only look at him with empathy. He was beating himself up for not being able to find the right person, and it had been already two weeks. For a normal person, that's still fast but for Mulder, two weeks was too long. His plan was always supposed to work. Let alone, now he had to deal with the aftermath of a suicide of a friend. Even if it was two weeks, Mulder could get attached to someone easily, especially if his mind was set, right. There honestly wasn't anyone he's gotten attached to, but as a protege, Scully knew he looked up to Reggie and Patterson. If Mulder was so paranoid all the time, clearly he had something for Scully, as he still treated her well when she was assigned to him, despite him thinking it was spying. That was partially true.

Everyone was completely silent for the ride, which felt strange, but the atmosphere was too dark for light conversation.

Finally arriving at the sight, Mulder bolted straight out with his badge and pulled the sheet off the body. He was shocked that Jeff looked no older than twenty-four.

"My god..." He noticed the faded and somewhat new cuts on his arms, but the main feature was a big caliber bullet wound straight through the forehead, like all other victims. 

"Victim is Jeff?" Mulder asked.

"Yeah."

Mulder looked back to Scully, before walking away and sitting on a bench, staring out at the trees. He failed once, and he couldn't let it happen again.

Sometime later, Scully came by and sat next to him.

"You know, it's not your fault."

"I know, but it's my fault I could've prevented it." He looked down at the dirt and kicked some rocks, doing anything to avoid eye contact with Scully.

"We can't win everything. You still have a chance."

"Yeah, but the whole point was to find the killer before he struck again! Two weeks! I thought I had him! I thought Jeff was the killer! He's not!" Mulder's voice rose up again and a few agents looked towards him.

"I promise I'll find this guy, before he strikes again," Mulder said before taking a walk to nowhere in particular. He'd have to go back to DC in the car with them anyway.

\-------

Later that night

Mulder sat in his living room, at his desk. His chatroom was up. He didn't need sleep right now. He was fed up and blatantly stated:

Paran01dSp00ky: I want to die, right now.

And maybe Mulder was starting to feel that for real. 

Instantly, of course, many messages pinged back telling him the whole "dont" speech and reasons to live. He sighed and shut the computer off. Going to the bathroom one last time before trying to get some sleep, he bumped into the cabinet and the razor fell conveniently right into the sink in front of him.

This time he wasn't playing perpetrator. He was playing victim. He needed to get into the mindset.

Scully's gonna kill me, he thought but screw everything. It was his control. He grabbed the blade and without hesitation cut three times horizontally. He watched the blood drip. Now what did he need to think about. Death.

What were the reasons? No family. Always mocked by everyone. Called crazy. Really, he was just a sorry joke, a mistake. This made Mulder furious. He squeezed his left arm tight, with his right, letting his hands get soaked in blood. He held it there until the blood clot and he didn't bother cleaning up the blood until he realized he couldn't have Scully see, so he washed his hands and bandaged his arm up before going to bed.

The next day, he woke up, he remembered the events of last night and groaned. Another day, another 24 hours of getting nowhere.

He made his way to work, and along the way, made a mental note to keep his sleeves down and his coat on the whole time. He had a habit of rolling them up when working at the computer but he wasn't in the mood for a scene if Scully saw. Thinking about it, the wounds didn't even feel like they were there anymore.

He walked into the office and noticed Scully already there. She was looking at his keyboard.

"This looks like Agent Pendrall's keyboard," she said.

"Oh. Well, all bureau computers look the same," he smiled and took his seat.

"Mulder, I think you should stop."

"No."

"Agent Cash or Dylan can take over if it's online."

"Yeah, but I've built relations this past month and them taking over would start from scratch. At least I'm somewhere close."

"Mulder, Skinner made an appointment for you with Dr. Melendez."

"The shrink?" Mulder was just about ready to destroy another keyboard. "What the hell, Scully! Why?"

"It's mandatory for something like this, you have psychological check-in's and I know you won't talk to me or Skinner, despite us being close."

I tell everyone in the chat, Mulder thought.

"If I don't show up?"

"Then Skinner will remove you from the case."

"Goddammit. When do I see this shrink?"

"This afternoon."

Mulder waved Scully off rudely, before getting back to his chatroom.

Mulder: Can you believe it? My partner is sending me to a shrink!

User101: Dude, we've all been there. Just lie!

Mulder: Sure...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more chapters coming
> 
> writing the usernames was annoying so im just using Mulder's name and random usernames.
> 
> I have no experience in the 90s so pardon if the computer knowledge I have is too advanced for the time


	3. I Can't Seem to Stop

Mulder could lie. He was told his expression was always monotone and not readable. Lying would be easy. It wasn't even a polygraph test. IN fact, he had avoided counseling for so long, he knew it would come eventually.

The whole morning, Mulder was occupied in the chatroom, some days the chat was random and today everyone was just talking about their school life which he didn't care much for. Right after Scully brought him lunch, which he only ate half again along with some sunflower seeds. Right now, he didn't need a lot of food in his stomach because just meeting with someone would make him sick.

He glared at Scully, and again at Skinner in the hallway as he made his way to the office. Standing outside, he knocked and hear a voice telling him to come in.

He reluctantly walked in and stood by the door after closing it.

"Have a seat."

Mulder hated this. He could run out right now, but then Skinner would take him off the case. There were three options.

1\. Lie to the shrink and continue with work

2\. Tell the truth to the shrink, get hospitalized, and get kicked off the case

3\. get kicked off on purpose to secretly work on the case

4\. something unexpected-

Which way should he go about? Lying. Because if he does tell the truth, he'll have more problems to deal with. So ironic, to find the truth, there are so many lies to be told.

Mulder slowly sat down in the chair, and made eye contact. He didn't want to appear nervous or anything.

Instead of hearing the expected, how do you feel the doctor instead asked, "Do you know why you're here?"

"Yes. My partner and boss forced me because they fear I'm going to hop on the crazy train."

"Do you think you are?"

"No."

The doctor nodded, unconvinced, or that's what Mulder thought.

"How are you coping with this case?"

"I just tell myself it's a fake persona through the screen. My goal is to capture this guy. That's all."

"Even though you tell yourself, are you actually lying? What's your fictional backstory?"

There was no fictional backstory, and Mulder realized he got carried away and had told them everything on the chat, minus the government knowledge.

"Do I have to say?"

"Well, I need to know if you're fit to continue the case."

"I just make up trauma," Mulder kept lying. Lie on top of lies would eventually unravel. 

"For example?"

"Oh. I feel sad. I cut. I want to die. The usual." He cringed at how convincing he thought he sounded. He quickly added, "That's what I tell them."

"And not even 1% do you feel that?"

"Of course not."

"Agent Mulder, you answer all of these as if you're 100% the happiest person ever, but I've never had a client supposedly sound as happy as you. Are you just saying what you think I want to hear?" That was somewhat sarcastic, Mulder thought. He should make it seem natural.

"This isn't an interrogation." Mulder bit his bottom lip and stopped the eye contact.

"Your partner is worried for you and so is AD Skinner."

"Obviously. But they don't have to. It's annoying. May I go now?"

"Sure, but every three days I'm checking in with you. You can always reach out to me."

Like I will, he thought. Mulder wanted to throw the trashcan he saw in the corner. "Uhuh," he said through gritted teeth. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why?! He was perfectly fine and people worrying about him just made everything more annoying. It was a strange thing. He'd never tell anyone close to him, or in connection to someone close. The way he told everyone on the chat was realieving in a way and he didn't know why.

Mulder made sure to make it obvious he was angry and stomped into the basement, opening the door fast and loudly, banging the wall with the other side of the doorknob. He realized he dented the wall and sheepishly smiled at Scully who was watching him the whole time.

"How did it go?"

"I can't believe you! Reminds me of when my mom forced me to see someone after-" He started but didn't want to say her name, knowing he'll probably cry. "It's totally stupid and worthless, Hell, I'm a psychologist myself!"

"In that case I think you out of all people should know what's going on. Don't try to outsmart another psychologist because you both know the secrets."

"If you'll excuse me," Mulder said sitting back at the computer, another day at the chatroom. Scully didn't understand how he could for 12 hours every day for the past month just hyperfixated in this one chatroom. That definitely couldn't be healthy. If only he hadn't changed his computer password, Scully would've wanted to see what was in the chat, but somehow Mulder managed to close off the joining so the only suspects left were stuck in the chat. There were still about twenty people that could've been the killer.

As usual the for the past month, Scully went to do some other work and worry about Mulder. She'd rather they chase lake monsters that turn out to be crocodiles than have him be dangerous to himself.

As soon as he made sure he left, he rolled up his sleeve to take a look at his arm. The area itched a bit but he didn't want to go through the hassle in his office of the whole first aid procedures again. His guilt was getting to him, and he couldn't take his mind off of Jeff. He was never wrong on a profile.

Logging on again, Mulder was pulling his last cards left.

Mulder: Someone please kill me now.

User1: What's happened now?

Mulder: I'm sad about Jeff. In fact, I was so close, I told him everything. Maybe I should join him. I live close by.

By adding that detail, it would hopefully shorten the time. 

User2: We all are.

Mulder: Seriously, what's stopping you all from killing yourselves?

User3: Honestly, this group. It's like a free support group. Plus, we don't have effective methods.  
Mulder: Oh... I'm very close to ending everything. I can be with my sister.

Mulder could type fast, and he didn't really think. He just sent that. By now, his thoughts were just natural and it didn't feel like a made up story. Of course he wasn't going to ever share those thoughts with anyone. He'd keep them in until the day he died.

By the end of the day, Mulder was exhausted and there was no progress once again. Just as he was about to say bye, he realized he had a private message from someone named User702. He opened it to find a lengthy message.

User702: Hello. I've been in the chat a while. I mostly just watch, sometimes I talk. I noticed you seem to be more depressed than most. I know this might sound crazy, but I can help you die. I live in Virginia and you said you were close to Jeff. I've helped enough people to know you're desperate. I know you're whole story. It must've been tough not to ever see your sister again. You can see her again in Heaven. Now, just to know you're for real, I do want a picture of you. No nudes obviously. Just any picture. Cuts preferably.

This man had some serious issues. At least it wasn't sex crimes, but maybe he was purely a sadist and shielded everything by having it become consensual homicide. Deep inside, maybe this man was hurting more than anyone else, but wanted to feel like a hero by putting people out of their misery. He finally had a clue and needed to dig deeper, whatever it took. An image would be really annoying to send, but he replied back anyway.

Mulder: I'd like that. I'll send a picture in a minute.

Mulder knew Scully would come back any second to say goodbye, but he quickly took the blurry webcam image of his wrist and sent it. This was utterly ridiculous and he somehow felt embarassed but was shocked at the reply.

User702: That's it? Look, I need to know you're committed. A few single cuts on the wrist isn't going to do.

Mulder groaned. He should get back to his apartment computer and continue.

Mulder: I'll get back to you a few hours. How much longer? I want to end my pain soon.

User702: Sometime within this week. It's fast.

Mulder laughed again, but the inner psychologist in him told him that response was a distraction to try to make light of the whole situation.

Mulder shut off the computer for the day, and put on his coat. He of course looked around, hoping no cameras were watching him do that, but they probably were. What's worse is if people knew what he did but didn't say anything, vs confronting him. They knew he didn't know, but he'd rather know they knew.

Scully came in as he suspected, and they said goodnight before Mulder drove him to just end up going to the computer again.

Again, he sat in front of his computer, the small razor in hand. He unwrapped the previous bandages and looked at the ugly scars. He didn't like it one bit, and the only thought in his brain that played was 'Scully is going to kill me before he kills me' because what he was doing was so dangerous and not rational but if he told someone, they wouldn't let him go forward with the idea. He looked at his right wrist this time, should he do both, or just one arm? What about his legs? He figured he'd spare his legs because he still liked going on runs.

Without hesitation now, Mulder added three cuts to his right wrist, to match his left. He watched the blood slowly trickle down and was seething at the sting but he told himself to suck it up. He was a man. Just a silly cut.

Looking up, he saw the photograph of Samantha that sat on his desk. The same image that was in every room, but somehow it felt like she was looking at him with pity.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. He remembered how he wanted to kill himself during his high school years with his father's gun or his mother's kitchen knife but he wasn't selfish enough to leave Samantha, in case she ever returned. "Don't worry. I'm not going to kill myself. I'm just catching a killer, and this is what I have to do." He fingered the edge of the frame before taking a fresh picture and sending it to User702, whoever he was behind the screen.

User702: I feel like you could do better, but by the end of the week you'll be in the worst pain ever, and I will relieve that.

Mulder knew he shot their forehead right between the eyes with a gun, but he had to pretend he didn't know.

Mulder: What method?"

User702: I have a gun. It'll be fast and simple.

Mulder: What if I give you my own gun?

User702: You have your own gun? Well I understand why you probably do not want to kill yourself even though you have the resources. I know you're scared. That'll be great. We'll talk tomorrow. By the way, cut deeper.

He went offline and so did Mulder. He just stared at his wrist for a few minutes. What had become of him. Unexpectedly, he looked down on his desk and noticed wet spots on the surface. Tears. He had been crying, and he couldn't stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued! Thank you for all the comments! Even a few just motivate me to continue this! Thank you so much!
> 
> I'm also working on my comedy story "Ride" too simultaneously.

**Author's Note:**

> to be continued...
> 
> Only comment if it's going to be nice....because I do get deeply offended by negative comments, which is why I ditch some stories I've written.


End file.
